BRBC week 37 (ish): Postmoot

Greetings from the far side of Hutchmoot! Last Friday i sat on a ten-or-so-foot-long leather couch in the Nameless Triangle of Chinwaggery with sunlight streaming in the tall windows, conversations humming nearby, and Doodlemoot easels before and behind. Dozens of guests had brought jam from their hometowns and kitchens, and the bright-colored jars on long tables glistened in the light of the sun. Andrew and I had bumped into each other that morning, kiffy in hand, and we made grand plans to let him pick the excerpt for the week. Alas, but there is so much going on all the time at Hutchmoot that neither of us managed to pull our brains together enough to post. We missed you, though. If we could have all sat on that long leather couch and chatted with one other about Anniera, that would have been a happy moot.

There are Shining Isle updates coming, and we’ll get back on track with our reading schedule next week. But for today, here is last week’s excerpt. 😉

Even in its dilapidated state the homestead was a beautiful spot. …

Artham dismounted and walked up to the porch. “This is where they lived.”

“It ain’t a bad spot,” Maraly said, spitting and wiping her chin with her forearm. She pointed beyond the house at a trail that led into a little stand of trees. “What’s through there?”

“That’s the Glipper Trail,” Artham said. “I’ll show you.”

They dismounted and traipsed through spring weeds so green and wild they seemed to have erupted from the ground that morning. They slipped in among the trees and wound down a short slope of rocky switchbacks. All at once, the trees parted and the Dark Sea of Darkness spread out below them like a gray sheet.

Maraly clutched the nearest tree, dizzied by the height.

“That’s something you don’t see every day,” Gammon said. “Beautiful.”

“And scary,” Sara said.

“It’s not scary at all,” said Artham with a laugh. He ran to the edge of the cliff and jumped. …

Sara inhaled the salty air, felt the cool wind whispering up over the cliff, and closed her eyes with a sigh. … The air around her and the ground beneath her feet tingled with a long-withheld joyfulness. Was it possible that the land itself knew that the shadow of Gnag the Nameless had passed from Skree?